Samwise and his Elanor
by Seraphine Rose
Summary: Samwise is traveling to the Havens after the Passing of his beloved wife, but what stories does he leave his Elanor?


a/n It's 12am, I cant sleep, if the is bad tell me, READ AND REVIEW FLAMES WELCOME but PLEASE no grammar corrections, I know I suck but Iv gotten better so leave me be bout the grammar. ANYWAY read and tell me what you think.  
  
Disclaimer- NO I don't own it, Id rather read then own, but I don't own anyway so who cares?! DON'T SUE ME!!! O.o  
  
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Tears trickled lazily over the small creases on his weathered cheek. Roses, pale as the figures of the great kings, lay before him sparkling and laden with dew though no sun shone upon natures tiny tears.  
  
She was dead, the time had been long dreaded and long expected, for the illness that took her was swift, and deadly enough that even the esteemed King of Gondor had but moments to steal her pain before the light of life drifted from her eyes. Though even in death, no more beautiful a lass had he ever seen.  
  
Samwise knew pain, more then any other in the shire save his dearest friends Merry and Pippin, traveling through the hell that was the waste lands of Mordor and nearly losing his beloved master to the insanity brought forth by Isildurs' bane, had left him a good knowledge of the best and worst in life. To loss the one he loved however, shredded his heart as nothing had the pain left and unearthly space in his chest once occupied by her sweet smile and dazzling emerald eyes. Rosie had drifted away much as his master had upon the swaying boat. There was no more for him in this place.  
  
"Papa?" sweet as sugar, his eldest child's voice sliced the still air and behind him Elanor, approached tearstained cheeks and swollen red eyes distorting her elvinish beauty. The sparkling gems that were her eyes stared down at him, now dull as granite, and rough with the pain of loss.  
  
"Papa, do join me by the fire, this fog shall be your death if you remain here after night has fallen." Warm honey brown eyes gazed at the simple stone, marking his Rose's grave, the usual twinkle in his eye dead like the last ember of a fire unable to rekindle.  
  
"So much has been lost to me, my dear blossom" Samwise whispered wearily, is voice lost on the swift breeze snaking through his graying curls. Burning liquid rose to her sea blue eyes, and she fell to her knees... Strong hands, calloused and worn, strode through her hair calming the welling of heartbreak inside her  
  
"I fear, my time upon these lands has come to it's finally days for now healing is beyond my reach, at least in the lands of Middle Earth." Startling realization shook the young hobbit.  
  
"Papa, you cannot.please I-I cannot bare the loss of both you and mama" she cried, pain lacing her voice and her slight body wracking with sobs. Grief washed over her like the ocean upon sand, did her father care so little for he that he could abandon her.  
  
Samwise held back the grief-stricken flood that threatened to spill from his gaze, such pain, he wished she could be shielded from it. This little elf, as he was apt to calling her for he considered her beauty to rival that of the Lady, had been his glow when all was black in his mind, to see her stricken so, destroyed him and nearly broke his new-found resolve to travel over the sea. Sam touched Elanors' cheek gently and her tear-filled eyes rose to meet his own.  
  
"I wish to bid farewell to many a good friend; it may be a year in shire reckoning before I take leave upon the ship. My travels shall take me far past the borders of the Shire, through the kingdom of Rohan and Gondor," Elanors' sapphire eyes smoldered  
  
"Take me with you Papa." Her tone was sharp reminding her father greatly of his dear Mr. Frodo when determination struck him and the look he received dared him to argue against her companionship to him on his last journey through middle earth. The old hobbit found himself greatly regretting telling her.  
  
A deep sigh escaped his lips "Yes daughter, you may come though you must journey light for 'tis over mountains and meadows we shall trod, not an easy march for so fair a hobbit as yourself. Begin packing at once if you mean to go, for I shall not wait longer then time shall force me." Overjoyed, Elanor sung from the room and began packing all that she would need.  
  
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The travels began at first light the next morn, through Farmer Maggots mushrooms crops, to the old forest marking the edge of Buckland. Each pause in the journey marked a new tale to be told, fascinated by each new story, her penmanship was meticulous, for she wished to record every event, her father could recall. Against her wishes, for she feared the woods, they traveled through the thick, stuffy forest that once held such terror for the four traveling friends all those years ago. Old man willow, still standing ominous and proud upon the riverbank, loomed before once and Sam burst into song "Ho Tom Bombadill! Tom Bombadill!  
By water, wood, and hill, by the reed and willow,  
By Fire, sun and moon, harken now and hear us,  
Come, Tom Bombadill, for our need in near us!"  
  
Elanor stood fixed, considering her fathers madness for a moment when without warning, a jovial voice rose from earth, river, and trees.  
  
"Old Tom Bombadill is a merry fellow,  
Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.  
None has ever caught him yet, for Tom, he is the master:  
His songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster."  
  
From the underbrush beside the river bounded a slim little hat dressed in a tattered blue rain jacket, and yellow boots. A smile grew as his eyes fell upon the wanders, is seemed to encompass all of the little fellows face, his eyes overflowed with glee and twinkled with a childlike mischief.  
  
"Hobbits! Quite a rare occurrence I should say there has not been neither hide no hairy foot of the little fellows since.why since the coming of the bearer of that little ring! "the merry fellow cried blissfully, lost in memories Sam smiled warmly at him  
  
"Aye that be true, it also be true not a hair on your head has changed since our parting Tom Bombadill, I do hope I can say the same for Goldberry." Leaping, seemingly surprised, the odd little man laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth.  
  
"You! I do recall you from that merry meeting long ago..yes Samwise! Ah Another Merry meeting I do say, come! Join my dearest and myself, for food and drink; this is a call for celebration! The return of the dearest of friends!"  
  
Tom Bombadill truly was not alike to any Samwise had met, and certainly not alike to anyone her daughter had the pleasure of speaking to. Goldberry was also quite joyous in all times of daylight and eve, though her voice was that of the bird above the clouds, and the lone wolf in the storms, it held deeper meaning then the bright smile resting on her un-aged face. Merry tunes withheld the sorrow and great happiness the melodies conveyed to their listeners. All of this was extraordinary to Elanor, who had heard but tales of humor from her elder friends.  
  
A week was spent in the quaint home of Samwises friends, stories were told that Elanor dutifully copied into her rather growing storybook, to her dismay one beautiful evening her father decided it was time to part with his friends. Samwise spoke nothing , having no words to say that would convey what he felt at the moment.  
  
"Alas fair hobbit," Tom whispered softly "this final parting saddens me greatly I hope this peace you seek does indeed come to you for it is all you deserve my fine sir."  
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Miles were traveled, until their path crossed into the land of the dwarfs. Moria, long since deserted by Orc possessors, was now held under the power of the Dwarf lords; mines were made of the many-chambered mountain and it seemed somehow friendly then the time Samwise passed through it.  
  
"Mellon" Samwise uttered quietly when the mood rose, revealing the outline of the beautiful door, rocks shifted and the door opened revealing what appeared a very active city. Walking to and fro calling greeting to them were many a dwarf and a handful of elves; they stepped in and dodged passing carts filled to bursting with metals and gems of many sizes and shapes.  
  
"Quite a change" murmured the elder hobbit "'tis truly a wonder now" Elanor agreed, gems stone windows sealed breaks in the mountain side that filtered light into the dark chambers, reds and greens floated across the stone floors and the faces of the hard-working dwarves; the chamber had in itself an almost unearthly appearance.  
  
"Master Samwise!" Bellowed a gruff voice "Thought you'd never bide me a visit!"  
  
"Gimli!," cried Elanors father, who had thrown his eyes around the boisterous Dwarf "Oh my old friend how I have missed you, word does not pass quickly across the plain, last news sent to me was that you and Legolas had lost yourselves in the forest of Fangorn!"  
  
"I've missed you to my friend, 'tis true the elf led me into the accursed forest"  
  
"And you enjoyed it Master Dwarf, unless my memory escapes me," a mildly humored voice sang out.  
  
"Legolas!" Sam released Gimli, enveloping the pleasant elf in a sturdy embrace. The elf returned the hobbits affection, laughing jovially.  
  
"Sam, quite a surprise! And who might this beautiful maiden be" Legolas bowed deeply to Elanor who felt heat rising to her cheeks.  
  
"Elanor is my name Master Elf, Elanor Gamgee,"  
  
"Why, I do remember you a visit made to Bag End brought a lengthy visit with you. How you have grown little Elanor, you truly live up to your name" Legolas smiled and the heat returned to Elanors pale cheeks.  
  
Elanor quite enjoyed the stay at Moria, Legolas and Gimli told her many a story of their vast travels across the plains of Rohan, and through the forest of Fangorn. She was ensnarled in their stories much like a fly in Madame spiders web. The stay among thes two friends was brief, for the Dwarf and elf's time in the lovely caves was brief, with a promise of later meetings, the two parties left in seprate directions, and her father finally told his own story of the caves.  
  
The story of the Fellowships loss of Gandalf caused the rise of hot tears for Gandalf was legend in the Shire, however odd he was considered. To fall into shadow, Elanor thought, must have been awful for his companions. Stories of the balrog shook her, Upon reaching Lothlorien, Elanor found that, though beauty of endless time surrounded her, it was mocking to her eyes. The beauty, grace, and power of the one called Galadriel made her own beauty seem far removed, for elfish beauty was far greater then her own, as was the wisdom that journeyed with them, Rivendell had been the proof of such, and Lothlorien seemed to mock all sorrows that any felt in a life time.  
  
The days golden rays faded, dusting the now black sky with stars. While she rested beneath the Mallorn trees, Elanor wandered, amazed and saddened by the beauty of it all, and of her namesake, the flower elanor; a clearing formed before her and it held no more then a dish and tiny stream. Yet as though the wind whispered to her ears, a voice beckoned her to the bowl. Cautiously she approached, peering into the crystal water only she say not the granite base as she expected, but a night of clear stars, and full moon. Lovely was the image shown to her, it spoke to her though her ears could hear nothing.  
  
"Welcome Elanor Gamgee of the Shire, namesake of the flower of Lothlorien, Daughter of Samwise Gamgee bearer of the ring of power. The lady Galadriel welcomes you, much will you see, and much shall you be taught. Forget nothing, for the time shall come when you will step forward, not perhaps for the whole of middle earth, but for something only you can understand. Of strength and courage, you must know, and of this must you be taught. Have strength halfing, much of your heart belongs to that which you cannot yet understand."  
  
The water glass had shaken Elanor greatly; this had not escaped the watchful eye of her father. Samwise knew the power of the Lady still resided in the golden woods long after her departure, and that some magic was still there of what his daughter had found he could only guess. Much of his travels escaped his mind, yet not a moment spent in the beauty of the lady escaped his memory. Trudging along the bank of the mighty river, Sam found his thoughts drifting back to the times before the fellowship was broken, before Frodos' madness surfaced. The loss of their dearest friend Gandalf had caused them suffering, yet true pain, Sam recalled, came only at the hands of Sauron and the servants of the land of Mordor.  
  
The place of Boromirs' place of demise was yet another story worth telling, though Sam had not been with them, Pippin had described all that had happened. Sam had sworn never to forget the man of Gondor's final act of courage.  
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Gollum, or Smeagol, became one of the chief characters in the tale as they traveled across the mountains; her father contempt for the creature was evident in the bitterness, which laced his voice at the mere thought of the lank and filthy thing.  
  
The passage through the marshes left Elanor ill, for the land of evil, which her father had traveled, grew closer with each passing of the sun. Many a day and night, it took before they reached the lair of Shelob.  
  
Since the time of her 13 year, Elanor feared spiders greater then all other creatures. The tale of Shelob awed her, that her father found such unbelievable strength against such ghastly odds. Dark as pitch was the tunnel, and wind whistled through the loosely hanging webs. Memories swirled through the old hobbits mind like a vast river, such pain he had suffered at the hands of the creature in whose lair the now stood. Another tale told, Elanors books was nearly full, chapter upon chapters as they made their final march across the dessert plains of Mordor. Nothing had changed. The filth caked air filled their lungs, and acrid smells came from deep pits, all that had changed was the leave of evil, though for years hence the land would never truly be at harmony with all other lands.  
  
Mount doom had long since crumbled, however the base remained. Carved in stone was the most heart-rending of all the young hobbit lass had seen during the traveling. Fossilized in the very stone base of what was once the most treacherous part of her fathers' journey, was the figure of a tiny creature, no bigger then her hobbit friends but much thinner, grasping a circle within its palm. A torrent of tears flowed form each father and daughters eyes, Smeagol may have been the object of Samwises' immense hatred, but if not for him, the journey would have surely failed.  
  
"We traveled daughter, though ice and fire and darkness to this point" Samwise whispered quietly "Twas' at this point was your Uncle Frodo ceased to be, the rings hold had closed around him, if it wasn't for Gollum. I do not dare to imagine what could have come to be" pain coursed through his chest, the last step had been more difficult then anything they had come to on their journey.  
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The pain of these memories was to great for the old hobbit, their stay at the remnants of Mount doom was short, barley a nights rest.  
  
* * * Gondor, often had the hobbit-lass dreamed of seeing it, but never imagined the day would come when it would be so. They were received at the Gate of Minas Tirth with respectful bows, and murmurs of sir. In turn, Samwise returned each greeting respectfully as a guard led them to the throne room of the esteemed King of Gondor.  
  
"Mellon!" Aragorn cried, swiftly pulling the aged hobbit into a tight embrace. At his side stood the beautiful queen Arwen who remained untouched by time, remembering her manners Elanor curtsied low.  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you my lord and lady," she said softly looking into Arwen's rich eyes.  
  
"Polite you are pretty hobbit, indeed; however you are among friends titles are of no consequence now." Arwen smiled cheerfully at the hobbit, as Aragorn and Samwise conversed. "What is your name small one? I recall you as a babe, but your name is beyond my recollection"  
  
"Elanor, Elanor Gamgee" the lass replied, lowering her eyes in a respectful manner. Arwen, amused by this action, stole a quick glance at her love.  
  
"Come Ms Elanor, let us walk," Obediently, Elanor followed Arwen from the Marble throne room, into the fairest garden she had ever laid eyes upon.  
  
"'tis beautiful my Lady, never before have I seen such a more magical garden!" the hobbit exclaimed, captivated. Chuckling softly, Arwen seated herself gracefully beside a slight hill of flowers, flowers that struck Elanor with an amazement she had lacked since Lothlorien.  
  
"Elanor" the lass whispered touching a petal of the sun like flower, Arwen beckoned her to sit beside her. Hesitantly, Elanor took a place beside the queen; the hobbit felt gangling and unsightly beside the extraordinary splendor of Queen Arwen.  
  
Arwen considered the nervous young lass before her, obviously uncomfortable with being in the compay of an esteemed royal such as herself, Arwen saw much of her father in her, which was as she hoped. Aragorn told her many tales of the fellowships travels far past Rivendell, Sam was loyal to Frodo even when facing death and fire; the face of the child showed she would have done no differently.  
  
"SO much like your father you are, Courage hidden behind a fair, and polite face." A pair of troubled azure eyes met her own steady gaze.  
  
"Pardon my lady?"  
  
"Arwen My dear, only Arwen or Aunt Arwen if you wish to be polite,"  
  
Elanors face lept in appearance from troubled to bewildered quickly "A- Aunt?" she whispered flabbergasted.  
  
"Yes child, and Aragorn is named your Uncle" Arwen studied the girls face carefully, the sparkling eyes of a carefree babe were vanished, swept away by ill wind. "You are troubled, your eyes speak of it can you not tell me the cause of this?" Elanor shifted uneasily threading her hands in the rich soil beneath her.  
  
"I won't be a burden upon you my la-Pardon, I mean Aunt" Waving her hand dismissively, Arwen smiled.  
  
"Child, speak your eyes betray you for you seek counsel and another woman's companionship, so speak while the men still discuss!" Defeated, Elanor hung her head and spoke softly to her furred little feet.  
  
"I am losing all in my life Aunt" Elanor whispered, a surge of emotions churning within her. "Mother has left us, and now father wishes to travel to the havens, Neither brothers nor sisters wish my company and I am to be left with nothing but a large hobbit hole, and garden to tend."  
  
"Are you not married sweet Elanor?" Arwen inquired, the hobbit shook her head.  
  
"No Lad in Hobbiton nor the whole Shire would marry such a lass as me, headstrong the call it, certainly not a fine quality in the wife of a working Hobbit." Arwen nodded  
  
"I understand My dear, although quite in a different way" placid tone fell away to reveal a slight pain in the queens' voice. "I am elfin, Aragorn mortal man It should not be yet it is. I have lived far over a thousand years and have not felt so old as I do now, for Aragorn shall pass into endless sleep and I shall live on. Though I do not regret for a moment my choice"  
  
"How could you not Aunt? The one you love will pass on, leaving you behind, It is more then I could bare!" Elanor exclaimed and Arwen sighed, staring at something only her eyes could see.  
  
"I love him Elanor, I gave away my family and eternal life for that man. You do not understand for you have not felt love so light you feel as though you could soar with the eagles, life has not granted you that blessing yet. It shall come for you someday, and perhaps in a form you least expect." Elanor kissed Arwen's hand, smiling gently at the lovely woman.  
  
"thank you Aunt, you are truly a beautiful person," Arwen smiled fondly at the hobbit lass beside her and ruffled her flaxen curls.  
  
"As are you Elanor the Fair, as are you."  
  
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Many Days were spent in the Palace of Gondor, for Samwise could not bear to leave, A month had passed before, at last, Elanor's father felt it was his time to go. The farewell broke both queen and daughters hearts to watch such good friends part ways for the final time.  
  
"Strider..I.." The words stuck painfully in his throat, a soft sob escaping instead of the words he had wished to speak. The old ranger pulled the hobbit to him, embracing him with the might of a bear, and love of a friend. Kneeling before the elderly one, the king smiled,  
  
"Our paths shall cross again little friend, good-byes are merely formal, strong you are Samwise Gamgee for all you have done I promise none shall forget. Farewell" Farewells were difficult for the old hobbit; strider was dear to his heart as were all of his friends. Arwen bid him luck, and gave the offering of a visit to Elanor should she desire to return, after a sorrowful look from her father, the two once more traveled the road, stopping at a large garden around a gloomy tower. Trees walked around hoom- hooming, and Elanor barely remained upright as a particularly dirty tree approached.  
  
"*Hoom ha* Master Gamgee! Pleasant it is to see you again, how is Masters merry and Pippin?" the tree rumbled, Elanor stiffened, her eyes widening with a combination of dread and awe. The look on his daughter amused Samwise, who chuckled softly,  
  
"Elanor, this is Treebeard, if I recall he is the oldest living ent." The girl's azure eyes widened to the size of saucers  
  
"Ents, they are no more then a myth!" the tree released more rumbling which the hobbit lass presumed to be laughter.  
  
"*Hoom hoom ho* sit child, let me speak now," Treebeard thundered, took a seat stiffly upon the old ground , surrounded by bluebells and other flowers. Treebeard beagant o speak slowly, murmmering about the hastiness of small people with which Elanor replied  
  
"You have many a year to live Master ent, long past the time of any hobbit. We are in need of haste for we have less time in life then yourself," Treebeard guffawed boomingly.  
  
"*hoom ha*We shall get along famously little hobbit"  
  
Much like a young tween, Elanor spent many a day listening enraptured, to Treebeard speak slowly of the Ents involvement in the war of the ring. The lass, who wished to make a story from it, wrote each word quickly.  
  
All to soon for the lass's liking, they left Orthanac and were once again in the comfort of the shire.  
  
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The most tearful good-bye Samwise had been forced to give was between himself Pippin and merry.  
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Pippin had embraced The hobbit much as Aragorn had done, tears streaking his face.  
  
"We have been through so much,I suspected you would leave soon," Merry sobbed, all attemot at composure lost.  
  
"Never forget me" Samwise whispered, choking back rising sobs, the two hobbits before him had been through as much as he, they were more brothers to each other then their families were. The bond between them, they knew, could not be broken by distance nor death, the ache in their hearts though did not convey that thought. None of the hobbits wished to break away, hesitantly though Merry was the first, attempting to straighten his sorrow stricken face.  
  
"I will miss you Samwise Gamgee, the shire will not be the same without you."  
  
"I will miss you ten fold Master Gamgee, Keep us in your heart, as we will you in ours" pippin choked out and for the final time, Samwise waved farewell to the friends he had shared so much with, good and bad, and traveled the road to the shore.  
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The boat towered above him, as though it were the steepest mountain he was forced to climb, Elanor stood beside him he tears seeping unchecked from her crystal blue eyes.  
  
"I shall miss you Papa," she sobbed into his chest, and he stroked her hair kissing her forehead gently.  
  
"Love knows no distance Blossom; I will always be within you. Reach to your heart should you find yourself needing me, I shall never be far." Samwise whispered, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion.  
  
"I love you Papa"  
  
"And I you, Farwell My sun star, May the light of Lothlorien shine upon you as it does upon the Shire."  
  
A bitter wind stung her damp cheeks, salty air reaching her nose as she watched the ship till it was no more then a miniscule dot in the distance.  
  
"Farewell" her reply was lost on the roaring ocean winds.  
  
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"I have finished" A woman with graying hair declared, dropping a leather bound book onto her table with an echoing boom.  
  
"With what my love" her husband asked, leaning inquisitively over her shoulder.  
  
"Why, with the story, my fathers' story and my own"  
  
"Elanor, that is quite a large book! Did you write all of it?" Elanor laughed sweetly  
  
"No Love, The beginning is Master Bilbo's, Much is Uncle Frodo's, and the rest is my own." The man turned to the final page, a smile crossing his lips as his eyes roved over the words.  
  
"Beautiful" he whispered "A more perfect end I cannot think of"  
  
*Stories end*  
  
Four tales, each rich with beauty, beauty of pain and of pleasure  
  
The tale of a hobbit, who did in life what he could  
  
The tale of a bearer whose courage knew no bounds  
  
The tale of another, who's loyalty held fast through fire  
  
And the tale of a woman, who knew every step it took to come so far  
  
For some it is the end  
  
Yet it is truly the beginning.  
  
*Stories end* 


End file.
